


The Duelling Club

by Grooot



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29413953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grooot/pseuds/Grooot
Summary: Gilderoy Lockhart desired three things;  Trousers that made his crotch look like a Nimbus 3000 was stored in there; fame; and to shag Severus Snape. Severus Snape only had two fervent wishes; to be left the fuck alone and to crush as many dreams as possible.Hijinx ensue.
Relationships: Gilderoy Lockhart/Severus Snape
Comments: 15
Kudos: 46





	The Duelling Club

**Part one**

Severus was exactly four minutes and twenty-three seconds late for the staff meeting, just as he had been for every staff meeting except for the first. That was when he discovered any early or on-time attendees were obliged to take the seats closest to Dumbledore. Proximity meant being offered random sweets at regular intervals in such a manner that refusal felt rude. And Severus was very attached to his teeth. They may have been somewhat crooked, with one canine that was higher than the other, but he liked them where they were. In his mouth and attached to his gums.

He smirked to himself as he heard Dumbledore’s rumbling voice from behind the door. It sounded like the meeting had begun, and just in time for him to slink in and sit in the uncomfortable seat nearest the door.

Gilderoy “one functional brain cell” Lockhart was standing next to Dumbledore. The smug, blond idiot was wearing very, very tight chartreuse-coloured trousers. The man may have been able to boast ownership of only one functional brain cell, but the trousers clearly showed he was in possession of at least two testicles. And something disturbingly large and thick between.

“Ah Severus, what excellent timing,” said Dumbledore.

“Oh, was it?” Severus said dishearteningly. 

How unfortunate. It was beyond irritating when well-laid plans came to naught.

“Gilderoy,” Minerva said, turning to speak over her shoulder, “is starting a club.”

She smiled at him with the same sort of smile a cat gave to a small, edible animal between its claws.

“Good for him,” Severus said breezily. He wasn’t about to show fear in front of Minerva. He used to lie to the Dark Lord’s face after all, but Voldemort hadn’t been half as frightening as a fully empowered middle-aged witch.

Severus glanced at Pomona, who was seated beside him. She paid no attention at all to what was going on, and instead was very carefully perfecting the left buttock of an exquisitely rendered line drawing of Gilderoy Lockhart. Or at least, what Severus thought may have been Lockhart, if he were naked and viewed from behind. And bending over slightly. 

“You seem pretty sure he hangs low and to the left,” murmured Severus 

“I’ve got a good eye,” Pomona said without looking up. The pink tip of her tongue gently emerged from between her lips as she almost lovingly highlighted a freckle on Lockhart's left thigh.

“That’s wonderful to hear your support, Severus,” said Dumbledore. “The other staff unanimously nominated you to assist Gilderoy.”

“Unanimously?” Severus sighed.

“You _really_ need to get here earlier,” Minerva smirked, turning back to the front of the room.

“Absolutely,” said Lockhart brightly, beaming his white, toothy smile towards Severus. “Everyone agreed you’d be excellent as an assistant to me. Perhaps we could even exchange some techniques. You’re never too old to learn something after all.”

Severus had a brief fantasy of hexing Lockhart directly in the dead centre of his gleaming smile.

“I think Severus would _love_ that,” Minerva cackled in a catty tone. 

She’d keep. In fact, Severus made a note to remember this the next time she wanted him to brew up a cauldron of hairball potion.

“I nominated you,” said Hooch sweetly, “as I thought you’d really enjoy crossing wands with Gilderoy.”

Severus frowned at her.

Dumbledore beamed. “Excellent. That’s settled then. Gilderoy, perhaps you and Severus could work on this together, on your own time?”

Gilderoy blinked his blue eyes at Severus. “Oh yes. I could come to your chambers later tonight?” he offered.

Severus groaned and sunk down in his seat. A glance to his right confirmed Pomona had finished her drawing of Gilderoy and had begun to sketch out another figure next to the naked man. This figure seemed to have a large nose and long, stringy hair.

He sunk ever deeper into the chair.

_Great_. 

**Part two**

“A duelling club,” said Lucius as he sipped his after dinner cocktail. 

There had also been a pre-dinner cocktail, a cleansing cocktail between the entree and main, and a dessert cocktail. Severus was finding focusing somewhat difficult.

“Yes,” said Severus. “But it is being organised by Lockhart, so don’t allow yourself to get too excited about it.”

“Gilderoy?” mused Lucius. “Too beautiful for words but completely idiotic?”

“That’s the one,” confirmed Severus.

“Don’t forget hung like a centaur,” added Narcissa with a dreamy expression. 

Severus darted a questioning gaze at Lucius, but he also seemed to be briefly lost in some pleasant memory.

“Of course we would love Draco to take part,” said Narcissa.

“I can’t promise he’ll learn anything,” said Severus. “With the idiot in charge.”

“There’s always an idiot in charge at Hogwarts,” sniffed Lucius. “That’s why we have you there.”

Severus sighed.

“I miss our duelling club,” said Lucius. “Do you remember?”

“Yes,” said Severus in a snippy tone. He assumed Lucius was referring to the one at Hogwarts run by Slughorn, and not the one run out of the dungeon of the Manor where Riddle would make his followers duel for entertainment. Slashing spells preferred. Disfiguring hexes encouraged. 

“At any case, in terms of duelling spell options there’s nothing really like a good Crucio,” said Lucius.

“That’s an Unforgivable,” reminded Severus.

“ _Still?_ ” asked Lucius. “Honestly.”

“Just duelling spells. Non-lethal, legal duelling spells,” said Severus. “It wouldn’t hurt Draco to learn some more defensive spells.”

“Imperius?” Lucius asked hopefully.

“Unforgivable,” Severus said firmly.

“All the best ones are,” said Lucius sulkily.

“The disarming spell is the most useful,” advised Severus. “Very few wizards can defend themselves without a wand.”

“True,” Lucius agreed. “Wandless magic is such a pain.”

Severus wasn’t quite sure he agreed with Lucius. Although, to be brutally honest with himself, the blond man often made statements he knew Severus wouldn’t agree with just to goad him. Picking fights was a particularly favourite hobby of Lucius. Since Lucius _mostly_ picked fights with people Severus didn’t like, he usually found this to be an endearing quirk.

“Mmm,” he grunted noncommittally. It was the best way to annoy Lucius. Not rising to the bait.

“What do you tell Dumbledore when you leave the castle?” Lucius asked, in an abrupt conversational turn.

“He doesn’t ask,” said Severus. “I assume he believes I’m doing exactly what he asked me to do. Spying on Death Eaters.”

Narcissa frowned slightly, which was equal to an indignant screech from anyone else. 

“How gauche,” she sniffed.

But Lucius clapped his hands in delight. “Excellent,” he said. “Always a pleasure to be a thorn in his side.”

After that, there was enough time for a digestif before Severus unsteadily made his way back to the castle—stopping only twice. Once to heal his splinched left big toe. And the second time to evacuate eight cocktails from his stomach onto a pile of snow near the gates. 

Navigating the narrow staircases, uneven from years of footsteps, presented a decidedly difficult challenge for Severus. He attempted to save himself from a headlong plummet by pressing his palms against the large flagstone of the winding corridors. Finally a benefit to long, lanky arms. Thankfully he didn’t meet any students on the way, only portraits that tutted and sighed their disappointment at the sight of a Hogwarts professor drunk off his tits and trying not to face-plant.

“Oh fuck off,” Severus said to a portrait of three wizards in a meadow that attempted to exhort the benefits of teetotalism as he passed.

Finally he made it to his chambers, and noticed the parchment pinned to the door. Severus took the note, and after several valiant attempts, managed to focus long enough to read the looping, frivolous handwriting.

_Severus,  
I came to your chambers with the hope we could begin to discuss the duelling club. Alas, you were out when I called. Perhaps tomorrow night would suffice?  
~~Yours,~~  
Sincerely,  
Gilderoy Lockhart_

Severus squinted at the note, ignoring the heart that was drawn over the ‘I’ in Gilderoy. Was that the word ‘yours’ that was scratched out and replaced with ‘sincerely’? He narrowed his eyes even harder but couldn’t really make it out. 

Either way, it was more than his sozzled brain could handle, and it seemed like a tomorrow problem, definitely not a tonight problem.

**Part three**

Gilderoy practiced his smile in front of his reflection. It was perfect. White, blindingly so, and exposing the perfect amount of his teeth. 

“Lovely, dear,” sighed the mirror. “Absolutely lovely.”

Gilderoy winked at himself, smiling slyly and with a flick of his head, tossed his golden hair back. He looked, he thought smugly to himself, devastatingly handsome. He smoothed the tunic over his chest. It was peacock blue and silk, which made the echoing colour of his eyes pop, and also fit snugly against his broad chest and chiseled torso. Gilderoy let his fingers glide up his pectorals, counting the indents to himself. Yes. All there.

He was ready.

There were two goblets on the table and a bottle of wine. The wine itself wasn’t expensive, but Gilderoy had transfigured the bottle into one that looked like it was. There were cushions everywhere, and a very nice fluffy rug in front of the fire. 

The knock on his door was heavy, short, and brief. Gilderoy smoothed his tunic one more time and adjusted his purple trousers. They skimmed his groin in a very flattering way and the less said about how fantastic his arse looked the better, really. Otherwise there would be no time for wine.

Taking a deep breath, Gilderoy opened the door and looked up into the face of a scowling Severus Snape.

Gilderoy remembered Severus from school. The older boy, who hung with the deadly, dangerous crowd that included the magnetically seductive Lucius Malfoy. Rumours were Severus knew every piece of dark magic worth knowing, and he would sweep through the corridors with his skittery step, school robes and black hair flying. Gilderoy wanted to have him. In every way possible and maybe even some that weren’t.

“Glad you could spare the time, Severus,” he said in his best enticing manner, using Smile Number Three. This particular smile was used to great effect on the wizarding population of Ouagadougou, where he’d gone with (and subsequently obliviated) Merida Sankara. She’d made the most magnificent amulets. Gilderoy had taken a few home with him to show off during his book tour. 

“Albus forced me,” Severus said shortly. “Let’s get it over with.”

He pushed past Gilderoy into the room and stopped when he saw the spread on the table in front of them

“Why do you have wine?” Severus asked in a suspicious tone.

“I thought we could make a night of it,” suggested Gilderoy, abandoning Smile Number Three and instead moving to Number Five. He had an arsenal of smiles and was prepared to fire off any number of them to get Severus Snape out of those black robes and face down on Gilderoy’s couch.

Number Five was a wide, guileless smile that had opened the legs of a very nice witch he’d met in Switzerland. She’d been studying ghouls, and had done so for her whole career. It was a waste really, as no one would ever have read the book _she_ had written. Gilderoy had done her a favour, as the book had become a best seller with his name on it. The ghoul and the tea strainer story still got a laugh at parties when he recounted it. 

“Maybe a glass _would_ help me forget where I am,” said Severus. He sat down heavily on the couch with a loud sigh. 

“Excellent,” Gilderoy said and hummed to himself as he poured two goblets of wine. He handed one to Severus and smiled over the brim of his own.

“Here’s to a successful partnership,” he said.

Severus leant forward, and Gilderoy watched as a lock of sable hair fell across the man’s eyes. Severus raised his hand and with an annoyed grunt, flicked the hair back. The masculine undertones to the grunt make Gilderoy’s cock twitch. That grunt held a lot of promise. And Gilderoy wanted to make that man grunt. All night long.

He sat down on the couch, and slid closer to Severus in one smooth movement,

“Don’t crowd me,” Severus snapped.

Gilderoy was ecstatic. The rapidly growing erection in his trousers was on its way to becoming uncomfortable, and Severus playing hard to get was drawing out the excitement in a very interesting way. The man was obviously gagging for it. And who wouldn’t want to be blessed by a night with Gilderoy? Certainly not the man in front of him who was reeking of repressed sexuality. 

“Let’s get to it then,” said Gilderoy, taking a sip of wine.

Severus brought the goblet towards his face. His eyebrows rose and he took a delicate sniff.

“The vintage is fine,” said Gilderoy dismissively. 

“Why,” asked Severus in a low and dangerous voice, “is there a lust potion in this wine?”

“Is there?” asked Gilderoy in a surprised tone, deploying Smile Number Six, which had garnered him one of the most incredible nights of his life. A ménage a trois with the Malfoy in all their golden glory. But even Number Six faltered under the blazing rage evident in Snape’ black eyes.

_Dammit._

“If we were not at Hogwarts,” Severus said menacingly, “I would make you regret every single wasteful, idiotic second of your ludicrous life.”

“Oh,” said Gilderoy. 

“However, since we are, I shall have to leave you in one piece,” said Severus with an air of regret. “However, I am looking forward to our duelling session tomorrow.”

And he swooped out of Gilderoy’s chambers, robes flowing around him, slamming the door behind him.

_That was fucking hot,_ thought Gilderoy as he fanned himself slightly. He decided to take the rest of his wine to bed, and relive Severus’s anger in all its glory— accompanied by a tub of lubricant. 

**Part Four**

Severus didn’t have a plethora of perfect memories. He only had three. But they were three really good ones.

Perfect Memory the First was centred around the time Lily Evans (prior to the head injury that resulted in her catastrophic and inexplicable romantic interest in Potter) organised a picnic for his thirteenth birthday. They’d snuck away to the far side of the lake, and lay on a blanket under the protection of Warming Charm eating an entire strawberry sponge. Afterwards, she’d put her head on his chest and they’d invented increasingly ridiculous constellations in the stars above until McGonagall arrived in a whirlwind of equal parts worried and furious. 

McGonagall and her adolescent hormone radar had not been attuned enough to ruin what became Perfect Memory Number Two. An unexpected afternoon in the room of requirement with Cassius Hendricks, the only other student to contest Severus’s marks in Defence Against the Dark Arts. The Ravenclaw had perfectly smooth dark brown skin, and had seemed not to mind Severus’s pallid and clammy complexion. Severus had experienced his first orgasm at the hand of someone else (real, not imaginary), and afterwards he had lain entangled with Cassius and they’d read chapters of Curses and Counter Curses until the dinner bell rang. 

The Third Perfect Memory had been when the Hogwarts board of governors had attended the school to open the new quidditch field. The ceremony had been near the lake, and halfway through proceeds the giant squid had made an unexpected appearance and squirted gallons of ink all over the dignitaries. Lucius, in particular, had made an extraordinarily high pitched squeal when he saw his ink-soaked reflection. Severus had given him a potion to remove the ink but Lucius had, of course, disregarded his advice, doubled the dosage, and subsequently had all his hair fall out. What a magnificent week that had been. 

Severus decided he possibly had another contender for his list. Gilderoy—again clad in those revoltingly tight periwinkle-hued trousers that certainly were _not_ appropriate teaching attire—blitzed off the stage and into the wall by Severus’s disarming spell. Gilderoy’s flowing blond locks had flipped forward over his face, thus hiding his stupid smug smile and irritatingly chiselled jawline. Severus had been able to swirl his own teaching cloak impressively as Gilderoy had lumbered to his feet, stopping only when an audible sound of fabric tearing heralded the moment the man’s trousers had lost their valiant battle. For once, the tittering amongst the students had not been at Severus’s expense. 

Of course everything had gone to shit after that. Mainly due to the fact that children who hadn’t the first idea how to duel, attempted to duel. Then of course there had been the whole Parseltongue debacle, which had completely tanked the evening as it had meant Severus had to update Dumbledore. The Headmaster had gone all quiet, something that Severus had long wished for, but which was actually somewhat unnerving to witness in real life. He hadn’t gotten back to his chambers until just before midnight, whereupon there was another note pinned on his door. 

_Severus,  
I hope you didn’t sustain any injuries from our session today. I have some oil, extracted from the glands of the last surviving manticore, that is an excellent tonic for tired muscles. If you come to my chambers tonight I can apply some.  
Regards,  
Gilderoy Lockhart_

Severus rolled his eyes. The man was an idiot. Hot as fuck. But an idiot. 

Wait.

_Hot as fuck?_

Where had _that_ thought come from?

Severus stared at the wood paneling of the door, innocently framing the note from Gilderoy. His mind slyly presented the memory of Gilderoy getting up off the floor after the duel, the rip in his trousers exposing a tanned inner thigh with a downy dusting of pale hair. It hadn’t been just Severus’s wand that had been erect and at attention at the sight. Thankfully it was nothing a good billow of the robe and ramrod straight posture couldn’t conceal.

But..., downy thighs aside. Severus did still owe Gilderoy a good murdering. There was the whole incident with the lust potion still to resolve successfully, and Gilderoy _would_ make a particularly lovely corpse. 

Also, there was an _added_ bonus to Gilderoy’s demise. Severus could finally take the Dark Arts position.

Although, if he went to the man’s room right now, there was also a good chance he’d get all sorts of interesting positions. The cumulative effect of the Parseltongue incident, the ongoing Chamber saga, and trying to protect Potter from his addiction to mortal peril meant that Severus was in dire need of some stress relief.

Severus sighed. Decision. Decisions.

Finally, he crumpled the note in his hand and stormed off down the corridor. A malicious smile bloomed on his face as his step quickened, boots thudding loudly along the flagstones. He knew at least _three_ innovative uses for Manticore oil and he wasn’t afraid to use them.

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a one-shot for Snapefest. Why not drop by and check out the others!
> 
> [SnapeFest 2021](https://snapecase.livejournal.com/104508.html?utm_medium=email&utm_source=JournalNewEntry)


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